Touched by an Angel
by thatlanngirl
Summary: Dean's wanted to ruin Castiel's sexual innocence for a long time. Now, he finally gets his chance. Destiel. M - consensual sex.


_Supernatural and it's characters are not owned by me. If they were, all these painful feels would be replaced with evil laughter._

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><p>Dean walked out of the shower, the moist fog around him barely hiding his brawny frame from view. His hand reached, grabbing the lone towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist, hiding just enough from sight. With a glance at the mirror and a quick grin, Dean stepped out of the room and into the empty living area.<p>

The place was a cut-out of ever other motel room he and his brother frequented in the past – two beds, a kitchenette, custard walls, and a light aroma of liquor, which sat closed on the table. Dean crossed to the table in a moment, swiping one of the bottles of beer of the surface and clicking it open.

"Dean."

The low, nearly growling voice echoed behind him. Dean jerked back, his green eyes searching and finding a new figure standing in the center of the room. Shorter frame overshadowed with a tan trench coat and a suit that looked so disheveled at first glance it might look too large for him. Blue eyes sparkled as they connected with Dean's green ones. Dean almost took a step forward, as if he was attracted to them. Like a moth to a flame. A very hot, angelic flame glimmering with far to much sexual innocence. Dean wanted to ruin that purity. He wanted to suck it right from that pale flesh. The call was so strong, Dean's cock jerked towards the angel. Dean ached to get closer, but he held back, hand with beer falling back onto the table.

"Cas," Dean said, delivering his best smile, "What are you doing here?" The angel didn't answer. Instead, he walked closer, eyes never disconnecting. With each step, the room seemed to get smaller. Dean's pulse quickened, beating at the base of his penis. Heat lurched through his body. Hand tightened against that dampening veil. Dean grew rigid, both frame and cock. Now mere centimeters apart, Dean edged back, his ass nudging the table. There was no escape.

Castiel's hands reached up, cupping around Dean's face lightly before pushing through the space between them. Lips met lips. Souls touched. Dean could feel that flickering innocence in those tender, pink lips. His eyes closed as Dean let his free arm, leaving the beer behind, looped around Castiel's waist. The angel grunted. Dean pulled closer. His cock pressed against the angel's leg. There was no hiding now.

Their lips separated. Dean let his green eyes flutter open, expecting to catch Castiel's blue ones. Instead, the angel was looking down, brow lifted, creases forming in that pale skin. The hands slipped from Dean's face, sliding to his toned shoulders. Then Castiel glanced up, his head not moving as those blue eyes cast doubt. Castiel fidgeted in his hold, those hands tightening against Dean's skin. Ocean eyes pushed away again. "I... am not sure how to..."

Dean smiled softly, and leaned in, letting his nose brush into the angel's auburn hair. He took in the light smell of sweat. A thin musk. He smelt better than any flower that could exist. Better than any perfume that a woman could throw on. "Then I'll show you." Castiel's head shifted. Dean pulled back enough to catch those blue eyes again as that face lifted up. Blue eyes mirrored doubt, still, but with relief dancing in the color. Dean closed the space between them again, locking his lips onto the angel's. More heat, more passion. Dean poured the months of frustration onto those lips. His body soon followed, towel abandon as he guided Castiel to the nearest bed. Once they reached it, Dean pushed Cas onto the covers, leaning over him, feet still firmly planted on the ground as were his lips to the angel's. Tongue slipping into the angel's mouth, his hands slipped off Castiel's trench coat and pulled jacket and tie away. The angel's hands guided to his back, fingers spreading over his flesh.

Soon, that white button-up was pulled away. The pale core was Dean's reward. His fingers rolled over it, feeling the slight hills in the angel's torso from the slender muscles. Cas groaned into the kiss, squirming under those dancing finger tips. Back lifted off the bed slightly, meeting the palms of Dean's hands. Then Dean pulled those slacks away, leaving the angel bare against the covers.

Mouths disconnected. Pants for air synchronized between them. Dean dipped down, letting his tongue travel over Cas' collarbone. The taste of that moistening skin tingled against his tongue. A salty aftertaste kicked in. Safety, warmth. Bliss. Fingers pinched at pink nipples, twisting like a volume control to the angel's moans. That back arched up, lower torso meeting his own. Skin on skin. Flesh over flesh. Dean pulled away. Impatience grew between the two of them as Dean reached into the bag nearby and pulled out the lubricant he'd tucked away months ago. He'd been waiting for this for a long time. Too long. Now, Sam was gone, and there was no telling when he would return. Dean would have liked to make the thrill last, but there was no time.

Dean settled between Castiel's legs, letting the slick liquid run over his fingers. Then he slipped a finger inside the angel, twisting a little to get his knuckles past that tight ring of muscle. Castiel hissed, blue eyes clenching shut as he shifted on the sheets. "Relax," Dean cooed, letting his lips roll over the angel's cheek. Castiel only nodded once, letting his body ease after a moment. Another finger tucked inside. Castiel moaned uncomfortably. Dean could see that smaller body grow rigid, but it didn't change the reaction of his cock, which stood on end, weeping a little as Dean kept his attention on that small entrance. Now it was ready.

With a few quick pumps of liquid onto his own penis, Dean shifted and pushed inside. A loud moan rolled from the angel's swollen lips, back arching, eyes tightened shut. Dean entangled one of his hands with the angel's. Fingers tightened around his own. Dean started slow, tedious thrusts before losing patience. Thrusts sped quickly. Moans and grunts escaped in rhythm, playing like their own little symphony. The volume controls were long gone, their session growing exceedingly louder. Heat compiled, pressure built, white flares formed in Dean's vision. It was like Castiel was glowing, shining from the pure ecstasy. Hazel eye shut, Dean gave several more deep thrusts. He could feel Castiel cave under him. Warmth splattered over his chest. Dean gave himself one more thrust before pulling out, spilling white onto the sheets. Only gasps for air escaped now. Their symphony was over. Dean opened his eyes, took in that sweat glistened body and smirked. Quick, but heated. Fast, but passionate. It was everything Dean though it would be, and then some. He already couldn't wait for round two.

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><p>Silence hovered in the air for a moment before a tired sigh escaped the air. Pages fell against the desk. Chair legs scraped against wood as a disheveled man pushed back from the desk and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. "That's the second angel," he muttered. Then his phone rang. He picked up and answered it without even thinking.<p>

"Hello?"

"Chuck?" He grew quiet for a moment. Then he adjusted in his chair, clearing his throat as he looked over at the freshly printed pages.

"Dean? Why are you-"

"If anything comes out on me and Cas having sex, you're dead."

Click.

Chuck stared at the phone for a moment before placing it back on the receiver. Then he picked up the new text and threw it in the trash can next to his desk. "New rule," he muttered to himself, slumping back in his office hair, a quick, content sigh leaving his lips, "Never write the sex."


End file.
